


you’re like a disgruntled mother duck

by ReedBalloon



Category: Carmilla - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 21:45:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11067753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReedBalloon/pseuds/ReedBalloon
Summary: Laura's ducks imprint on Carmilla.





	you’re like a disgruntled mother duck

Carmilla was tired and hungover who wanted whoever was trying to batter ram her door down to stop.

It was Laura Hollis, and she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised to see her looking put together and awake despite it being eight in the morning on a Saturday.

“I need you to look after my duck eggs.”

For a moment, Carmilla assumed the hangover and tiredness caused her to mishear. But, though her interactions with Laura has been confined to polite nods in the hallway between their apartment and the occasional quiet elevator ride, it did sound like something Laura would say.

She asked her to repeat it to check.

“I need you to look after my duck eggs.”

“I thought that’s what you said.”

Exchanges with Laura were minimal but cordial. Occasionally Carmilla would accept her mail and forget to tell her, and sometimes Laura would stay up late working and not turn her music down, but mostly the neighbours coincided with as much civility as you could with someone you barely knew and didn’t care to.

Now they were stage where they asked favours, albeit odd ones, and Carmilla had wanted to avoid this.

“Gonna need you to explain, cutie.” Carmilla leant against the doorway, two minutes standing having taken its toll. She had the sudden thought to check she had put pants back on when she got up, and was proud to see she had.

“I found some duck eggs a few weeks ago,” Laura said, bringing her attention back, “And I think they’re close to hatching but I need to go to Dallas for a few days, for a story, and I can’t just leave the eggs alone because they need constant care. So can you look after them? Just until I’m back on Tuesday?”

There was a lot of that sentences Carmilla would question if she wasn’t being bombarded by the regret of last night. She started with the obvious. “Why did you take the duck eggs?”

“Because they would have died, Carmilla,” Laura said.

“What exactly would I need to do?”

“I already made an incubator so you just need to turn them and keep them at a steady temperature. I made a list.” She held up a piece of paper with carefully bullet pointed instructions on. “It will only be a few days. Please.”

Carmilla blamed the hangover and the tiredness and the fact that Laura pouted for her saying yes.

“Thank you.” Laura squealed and beamed, and Carmilla would have maybe found it cute if it didn’t match the volume of a fog horn to her delicate ears. “Here’s the list. And a key. Help yourself to anything in the fridge and stuff. I’ll be back Tuesday. I’ll ring you.” She’s started hurrying back to her apartment by the second quick sentence, and waved to Carmilla with a smile as she closed the door behind her.

Carmilla regretted it already.

//

There were no eggs when Carmilla entered the apartment a few hours later, and for a moment she thought she had been tricked. A glance at the list, laminated list, her exasperated mind reminded her, told her they were in a cupboard, four eggs nestles in a container. There was a heat lamp next to them and Carmilla’s instructions were to rotate the eggs occasionally and keep them at a steady temperature.

Laura had provided small scientific explanations for this, but Carmilla could not care less. She threw the list on the coffee table and raided the fridge and cupboards, wondering how much food she could get away with taking in the next four days.

//

It was on the Monday morning that she heard the cracking. Carmilla lay stationary on Laura’s couch, having taken to using Laura’s electricity instead of hers to watch tv, and hoped that she had imagine the noise.

Another crack made her curse, and she carefully picked up the eggs and laid them on the coffee table before ringing Laura.

“The fuckers are hatching,” she said, before Laura had got out a greeting.

“What? No. It’s too early.”

“Tell them that.”

One of the eggs cracked and a tiny beak made its way out. The light sound of chirping joined the cracking.

“Are they doing it okay?” Laura sounded like she was rushing. “They weren’t meant to hatch yet.”

“They’re doing fine.”

“Okay, well I need you to put on the duck costume so you don’t freak them out.”

“No, Laura!”

“I’m kidding. If any of them are struggling then use a fork to help.”

Another was starting to hatch and Carmilla left them briefly to get a fork. “Like taking the top off a boiled egg, right?”

“Carmilla.”

“I can joke too.”

“Gently.”

She nudged some shell on the third egg as the beak struggled. The fourth followed not long after, and now Carmilla had four baby ducks to contend with as opposed to the four eggs she has signed up to.

The chirping was loud. For things so small the chirping was loud.

“All done, cupcake,” Carmilla said.

“All of them hatched?” Laura sounded disappointed. “I can’t believe I missed it.”

“I’d rather you were here and not me, too, cutie.”

“There’s some food for them under the sink. And use the pipette to give them water.”

“You don’t have a list?”

“I thought I’d be there.”

The chirping was really starting to grate on her. They were kind of cute, in a small way, but not cute enough to make up for the racket.

“I have work,” Carmilla said. “Won’t they be okay on their own?”

“No! You have to stay with them. Make sure they’re okay.”

“They’re ducks. What kind of mischief will they get into?”

“Just stay. Please.” Carmilla could almost hear the pout.

“I have work.” She was fighting a losing battle, but damn it she was fighting.

“Call in sick.”

“They don’t really believe me anymore.”

“Please. They’re cute.”

“You can’t even see them.”

“They’re ducklings. All ducklings are cute. I’ve seen the pictures.” Laura sounded like she was moving around.

“Not all things are as cute as their pictures.”

“Yeah?” Laura said, sounding amused. “Like what?”

“Tinder dates. Those pancakes shaped like animals.” Carmilla grinned when Laura laughed. “My point is, these could be hideous and you’re rushing around for nothing.”

“Carmilla, please. I’m finished here anyway, I’ll get an earlier flight and come back today.”

“Yeah, yeah, fine. But you owe me.”

“I do. Thank you. Bye.”

She hung up with a squeal of excitement, and Carmilla hated how endearing it was. She searched her contacts, knowing that the next conversation wasn’t going to make her less annoyed.

She tried shushing the ducklings but they ignored her.

“This better be a call to let me know you’re on your way and can’t wait to start your shift.” Lafontaine sounded exasperated.

“I’m sick.”

“Lies.”

“I have to take care of my neighbours ducklings.”

There was a pause. “Is that a euphemism?”

“No.”

“Your excuses are getting worse.”

Carmilla sighed and took a picture of the four noise machines and sent it to Laf. When she returned the phone to her ear they were laughing.

“They’re so cute.”

“Don’t you start.”

“Why exactly are you taking care of four ducklings?”

“Because I can’t say no to pretty girls.”

“You know they’ve probably imprinted on you.”

“The pretty girl?”

“The ducks.”

“Isn’t that a myth?”

Lafontaine snorted. “Nope. They latch onto the first thing they see in the hope of getting protection and food.”

“Like you with Perry.”

“Do you want to be mean to the person who’s going to let you take another day off?”

“What if I showed them a picture of Laura?”

“Do you have a picture of Laura?” Lafontaine was sounding far too amused, and Carmilla was right about her annoyance levels.

“I’m sure I can find her Facebook.”

“Won’t work. Those ducklings are yours now.”

“Fuck.”

“You always pride yourself on being able to get chicks.”

Carmilla hung up before Laf could even finish the sentence.

//

Laura burst through the door Monday afternoon, and a look of adoration overtook her face when she laid eyes on the ducks.

“They’re so cute,” she confirmed, rudely ignoring Carmilla completely to kneel down next to the cardboard box Carmilla had found to put them in. She turned to look at Carmilla, who made the devastating decision that she wouldn’t mind seeing that look on Laura more often.

“They’re noisy bastards.”

Laura tutted and informed the ducks not to mind Carmilla’s grumpy attitude. “They’re just excited.”

Carmilla watched fondly as Laura took turns in gently touching the ducks heads.

“Have you named them?” Carmilla asked.

“John, Paul, George and Ringo.”

“Are they the apostles?”

“I know you know who the Beatles are.”

“How will you tell which is which?”

“I’ll be able to tell.”

They still hadn’t ceased chirping, and it only seemed to increase with Laura fussing over them.

“Why the Beatles?”

“It was my mom’s favourite band.”

It was said quietly, and sadly, and Carmilla remembered the period a year ago when she didn’t see Laura smile for four months, and resolved that the names weren’t a topic she could mock.

One by one Laura started taking them out of the box and put them on the floor.

“What are you doing?” complained Carmilla. She pulled her feet from the floor lest she accidently touch one of them.

“Giving them room to move.”

“It’s not my fault you have a distinct lack of large cardboard boxes.”

“I’m not complaining,” Laura smiled at Carmilla, “I’m grateful you stayed with them.”

It wasn’t like she’d been given a choice and had spent most of the day using up Laura’s electricity, but it didn’t hurt to have gratitude from a pretty girl. “It’s fine. But now I’ll leave the fuckers in your capable hands.”

She stood and the ducks waddled over to her, the precise reason she had banished them to a cardboard box in the first place.

“They’re waddling towards you,” Laura beamed.

“They better waddle in the other goddamn direction.”

“They’re imprinted on you.” Laura sat back on her hunches and grinned as the ducks huddled at Carmilla’s feet.

“My friend says that’s a myth.”

“It’s not,” Laura said, sounding utterly delighted. “They think you’re they’re mom.”

Carmilla growled. A small part of her wanted to kick them, but she was pleased to find a larger part of her resisted the urge. Plus Laura might object.

“Well they’re going to have to learn pretty fast that I’m not.” She tried to leave and the ducks followed.

“Carmilla, wait, you can’t go.” Laura stood up. “It will make them sad.”

“It will make me sad to stay.”

“Can’t you hang around for a bit?”

“I really need to get back, cupcake.”

“Please.” Carmilla was going to have to get some sort of guarantee that Laura was no longer allowed to look at her like she was solely responsible for her happiness. “Not indefinitely. Just until they feel comfortable.”

Carmilla sighed. “I have things to do that don’t involve tiny noise machines.”

“Do you mean me or the ducks?”

Carmilla snorted a laugh. The ducks were still around her feet. “Little idiots,” she muttered.

“Come back for dinner? Please.”

“Fine. But you owe me a great dinner.”

She turned around to avoid seeing the joy that bloomed on Laura’s face, and opened and closed the apartment door in quick succession so the bastards couldn’t follow.

//

There was boxes of Chinese laid out when Laura opened the door to her apartment and let Carmilla in. The ducks instantly came over to her, and Laura had that enchanted look again.

“Why aren’t you more upset at this? You’ve been abandoned.”

“It’s cute. You’re like a disgruntled mother duck.”

Carmilla grumbled and navigated the balls of noise to enter the apartment.

“I got Chinese,” Laure said.

“I can see.” Seven boxes were piled the table, with further wrapping on some plates. “Sure there’s enough?”

“I just got everything you liked. As a thanks. And a bribe, because you seem a little perturbed.”

Carmilla raised an eyebrow and Laura grinned. “A little?”

“Minutely.”

“How do you know what I like?”

“The menu you leant me has stuff circled. I hope it wasn’t the ones you hate.”

“You’re in luck.” Circling the orders made it a lot easier to navigate when drunk. “So you got them all?”

“Apart from the chicken egg fried rice. For obvious reasons.” She gestured to the ducks at Carmilla’s feet.

“Chicken too close?”

“And the eggs.”

“Ah.”

Over dinner Laura told her that she had done some research and the ducklings were going to be fixed with the imprinting.

“It doesn’t exactly fade,” Laura said, over a mouthful of noodles. “They basically think they’re human.”

Carmilla had insisted the ducks be put in the roomier box that Laura had brought, at least while they ate, and Laura had relented. “So I’m stuck with them?”

“No. Obviously I know I can’t raise four ducks in my apartment.”

“Really? Because you’ve been acting like you don’t know that.”

“My friend from high school, he lives in the countryside. Him and his wife keep lots of animals, and they said they can take the ducks of our hands.”

“Your hands.”

“You’re their mom, Carmilla.”

Carmilla grumbled at Laura’s enjoyment of this. “So when do they leave?”

“They can take them in three weeks. We just have to look after them until that.”

“Again with the plural.”

“It’s not that long.”

She sounded sad, and whilst Carmilla couldn’t fathom the enjoyment of living with anything that shed feathers for three weeks, Laura obviously found some.

“Probably better for them in the countryside,” she tried, having absolutely no knowledge of ducks and limited knowledge of the countryside.

“Yeah.” Laura nodded, looking sad for a second before she brightened. “Was your work okay with you missing a day?”

“I work in my friend’s café, so yeah it was fine. Can’t miss any more though.”

“I know. I’ll be here. But you’ll come round, right?”

“Yes,” Carmilla sighed. She rolled her eyes at Laura’s grin.

“Are you working tomorrow?”

Carmilla hesitated for just too long. “Yes.”

“Liar.”

“I’m not duck sitting.”

“It’s not that.”

“Good.”

“We need to go shopping for them.”

“When did this become a we?”

//

Carmilla allowed herself to be dragged shopping, and they were two minutes into an argument over the best food to get before Carmilla remembered she wasn’t supposed to care.

//

Someone was trying to break down her door, and Carmilla supposed she would have to go and check who.

She could guess who. And from experience it wasn’t going to stop soon.

After the customary check of making sure there was no one in the bed with her, she dragged to the door and flung it open, nearly getting hit in the head by Laura, who suddenly started getting redder.

“Hey,” she said, then coughed awkwardly. “Did I wake you?”

“Take a guess.”

“Ringo’s missing.”

“Stop pretending like you can tell the difference between them.”

“Carmilla.”

“Missing how?”

Carmilla rubbed at her eyes and leant against the doorway. Laura was glaring resolutely at her eyes.

“I must not have closed the door and they all left, to find you I expect, and I found three of them but I can’t find Ringo.”

She was definitely red now, and panicking if her eyes flickering between Carmilla’s face and above her head was anything to go by.

Carmilla battled between mocking and compassion, and blamed the early hour and Laura’s face on compassion winning. “Okay, well, he can’t have gotten far. Give me five minutes to get changed and we’ll go look, okay.”

“Okay.”

Laura spun around quickly and walked back to her apartment.

Carmilla reached her bedroom before she realised she had forgot to put on pants.

//

They found Ms Hatcher on the floor below, holding Ringo and cooing. She glanced up, smiling when she saw Laura but scowling when her eyes fell on Carmilla.

The cordiality Carmilla extended reached pretty girls, it didn’t reach miserable women who glowered when they shared elevators.

“Ringo,” Laura said with delight, rushing forward and taking the duck from Ms Hatcher’s hands. “Thank you so much.”

Ms Hatcher, after taking a moment to look derisively at Carmilla, turned a smile to Laura. “I found the little guy wondering on the stairs.”

“Ringo, you could have fallen,” Laura scolds the duck, which just chirped at her. She looks over to where Carmilla had adopted a bored expression. “Carm, look, he’s okay.”

“I can see that.” Carmilla wondered next to Laura and gave the duck a curt nod when it looked at her. Laura thanked Ms Hatcher again, before wondering up the stairs, still scolding about the dangers of wondering around the hallways. Carmilla waited until Laura had rounded a corner before turning to Ms Hatcher. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Is it yours?” She had a way of talking to Carmilla reproachfully, like she was being nuisance, and it irked her.

“Laura’s.”

“There’s a no pet rule for the building.”

“I know, but they’re not mine. They’re Laura’s, and you like Laura.”

“They?” Ms Hatcher raised an eyebrow. “There’s more than one.”

“…No.”

“No pets.”

Carmilla sighed. “Look, they’ll be gone in two weeks. Just don’t report them.” She gritted her teeth. “Please.”

“Will you take out my trash?”

“What?”

“I’m old and its five flights down.”

“Yes, fine, I’ll take out your damn trash.”

“Then you can keep your birds.”

Ms Hatcher went into her apartment, paying no mind to Carmilla passionately telling her they were Laura birds, not hers.

//

“I saw that?” Laura smirked as Carmilla shot up, having not heard her sneak up behind her.

“What?”

“You patted Ringo’s head.”

“I did not.”

//

Laura had looked dejected when Carmilla said she couldn’t come to dinner because she was having people over, and that had caused Carmilla to make the foolish decision to invite her. The regret was cemented by Lafontaine’s grin when they saw Laura, and walked straight to her to introduce themselves.

“I still maintain you didn’t need to bring the ducks, cupcake,” Carmilla said after ushering Laf and Perry in.

“They can’t be left alone, Carm,” Laura argued.

“Yes, they can’t be left alone, Carm.” Lafontaine shot a grin her way. “Now, which ones which?”

Carmilla groaned as she slumped onto the sofa next to Perry, away from where Laura and Laf were talking animatedly. She received a look that she couldn’t read.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“There was a look.”

“How long until they go?”

“Six days.”

Another look. “How do you feel about that?”

“Will be nice to not have things following me everywhere. Stop looking at me.”

“Are you going to miss it?”

“What, the chirping or having to watch every step to make sure I don’t crush one of them?”

“Spending time with Laura.”

Carmilla quickly looked over, cautious that Laura heard. She was laughing at something Lafontaine said, and looked over to Carmilla to smile. She was aware she was smiling back, and aware of Perry having a look on her face.

“We’re neighbours. I’ll see her around.”

“Okay.”

“I’d say we’re friends now.”

“Alright.”

“And if she doesn’t want to spend any more time with me than that’s fine.”

“It sounds it.”

Carmilla looked at her, exasperated at being made to think about things she had purposefully not been dwelling on. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Make me confront things.”

“You’d ignore them otherwise.”

“I like ignoring them.”

//

They reached the last day before they were taking the ducks to their new home of the farm.

Being acquainted with the expression, Carmilla had asked if it was farm as in farm or farm as in slaughterhouse, to which Laura had indignantly assured that yes, it meant farm.

The ducks seemed a lot bigger than they had been, and as much as Carmilla didn’t want to feel something about them leaving, she had finally come to the conclusion that they were cute.

If they didn’t trail after her all the goddamn time there would be a larger chance she’d miss them.

Now she had to find different excuses to spend time with Laura, but was unsure whether Laura would even be receptive to that or not.

She entered Laura’s apartment that night to find her humming to the ducks something that sounded vaguely like Twist and Shout. She closed the door quietly, Laura cutting off when Carmilla entered, but continuing when she was gestured to.

Carmilla put the Chinese she’d brought in the microwave to reheat a moment, and sat on the sofa while Laura finished the song and moved onto Eleanor Rigby.

“You don’t play The Beatles often,” said Carmilla. Laura was still kneeling on the floor, and she sat back cross-legged to face her.

“I save it for special occasions.”

The ducks chirped and Laura looked at them fondly.

“Looks like they want you to continue, cutie.”

“You don’t mind?”

“It’s nice.”

The microwave sounded and Carmilla got their food, plating up and handing one to Laura.

“I’m never going to be able to eat chicken again,” Laura moaned, looking at the ducks with a sigh. “I even feel guilty with eggs.”

“I for one can’t wait to eat fried rice without you glaring at me.”

Laura’s face took on a funny look. Carmilla watched her as she picked at her food, pushing the mushrooms to the side as she always did.

“What’s wrong?” Carmilla asked with a frown.

Laura shook her head, the expression gone and the grin back, though it seemed lacking. “Nothing. Just going to miss them, that’s all.”

“We’ll visit.”

“People always say that. And then they never do.”

“We’ll visit.”

//

The car was silent as they drove. After dropping the ducks off and being coerced into a cup of tea and introduction to various animals, Carmilla began the long drive home.

Laura had flicked on the radio but eventually settled on silence, and was now staring mournfully out of the window.

“We will go visit them,” Carmilla insisted after another gloomy sigh. “What’s a five hour drive when the final destination is four ducks.”

Laura turned to scowl at her lightly, evidently not in the mood for jokes. “Do you think they’ll be happy?”

“As happy as ducks can be, I guess.”

“Promise we’ll go visit?”

“Promise.” Laura seemed placated for the moment, going back to staring out the window. “Is there something else?”

The pause was too long to be the truth. “No.”

“Laura.”

“You’ll laugh.”

“Maybe I will maybe I won’t. Let’s find out.”

Laura muttered something under her breath.

“Once more, cutie.”

“I’m worried you’re going to stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Coming to dinner.”

“What?”

“There’s no ducks to make you come over and now there’s only me and I don’t know if you’re going to want to keep coming over or keep in contact or go back to how we were.” Carmilla did laugh, and Laura coloured and went back to staring out the window. “I told you you’d laugh.”

“You think I spent the last four weeks coming to dinner to spend time with the ducks?”

Laura shrugged. “I know you like them.”

“Not as much as I like you.”

Laura glanced at her shyly. “You mean that?”

“You don’t need to use ducks as an excuse to invite me over, cupcake.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Okay.”

Carmilla was expecting an invite, but was met with silence. But Laura was smiling, at least. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“That seemed like it was leading somewhere.”

“Do you want to go on a date?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’m going to surprise you.”

“Last time you surprised me I ended up with four ducks imprinted on me.”

“It won’t be that surprising.”


End file.
